Conversations On A Train
by tj thw8s
Summary: It's time to return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. But Harry is nervous this year, for reasons having nothing to do with Voldemort.


Conversations On A Train  
by tj thw8s  
Harry sat down in an empty compartment on the last car of the Hogwarts' Express and waited for Ron and Hermione to find him. The three of them were on their way back to Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their fifth year. He hadn't spotted either of them out on the platform, but he knew that if he just stayed put they would eventually find him. It was better than looking for them by himself, what with some of the looks he was getting from the other students scrambling to board the train. There were times when he really didn't like being Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Especially now that word was getting out that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned.  
  
Normally, all Harry could think about at this time would be getting back to Hogwarts' as soon as possible because that was the only place he knew that felt like home. Number four Privet Drive with the Dursleys certainly didn't, even though they were the only living blood relatives Harry had. They were the worst sort of magic-fearing Muggles and his summers spent there were always under constant strain and tension.  
  
This past summer hadn't been quite as bad as previous years, though it had still been quite horrible. Possibly because both he and the Dursleys had finally spotted the light at the end of the tunnel. Harry was fifteen now and would, in all probability, be spending only two more summers in Surrey. He was quite certain that, even if he hadn't already planned on leaving, Uncle Vernon would be more than happy to show Harry to the door the instant he became of age. Undoubtedly with a purple-faced bellow insisting that Harry never again set foot within ten miles of any Dursley.  
  
But this year, Harry's usual relief and excitement about returning to Hogwarts' was under cut with a faint edge of uncertainty and nervousness. And Harry was sure he had only himself to blame. Well, he could probably toss a large bucket of it in Rita Skeeter's direction, but that wouldn't really do him much good. Her article in Witch's Weekly last year during the Triwizard Tournament, the one which had alluded to some sort of sordid romantic triangle between Harry, Hermione, and the Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, had been pure fabrication but it had had a few consequences beyond the irritating, yet ultimately insignificant (to Harry, at least), gossip mongering that had resulted from it. It had also caused some brief strain between Hermione and Molly Weasley (since Molly doted on Harry whenever she could and had felt offended for him) until Harry had insisted that Hermione was not his girlfriend and that the whole article was a load of rubbish.  
  
The second consequence was that the article, along with the fact that Hermione had actually kissed Harry goodbye (even if it had been on his cheek) at the beginning of the summer break in King's Cross Station, had kept popping into Harry's mind at unexpected moments all summer. Now Harry found himself occasionally wondering what it would be like if Hermione was his girlfriend. That thought sort of terrified him.  
  
And he didn't have the least idea of what to do about it. But he just knew that, whatever happened, it would invariably be awkward and unhappy. Just look at the way his crush on Cho Chang had turned out. Not to mention Ginny Weasley's crush on him, which was thankfully fading away into the sort of friendship feelings which were all Harry had felt for her from the beginning.  
  
"Harry!" came a female voice from the door of the compartment, "There you are. Ron and the rest of the Weasley's were about this close to tearing apart Platform Nine and Three Quarters looking for you until Neville Longbottom swore on his wand that he'd definitely seen you get on board. They were afraid those awful Dursleys had somehow kept you from coming back this year."  
  
Harry stood up as Hermione entered the compartment. He could feel himself start to blush as she grabbed him in a tight welcoming hug and the memory of a dream he'd had last week surfaced in his mind. A dream that had had Hermione in it. A dream that had been decidedly.....well.....erotic.  
  
Hermione released Harry from the hug and stood back, ready to turn around and go tell the Weasleys she'd found Harry. She paused when she saw the blush creeping onto Harry's cheeks. The only other time she'd seen him blush like that had been when he'd been infatuated with Cho last year. She wondered what was going on with him; it had been over a week since they'd been in touch. The Muggle way, on the telephone, since Harry's Uncle Vernon still wouldn't let him use his owl, Hedwig, for sending letters to anyone but Sirius. But, if the person calling for Harry didn't make the same mistake Ron had the first time he'd attempted to use a Muggle telephone, namely shouting into it at the top of his lungs, then there usually wasn't much of a problem getting to talk to Harry.   
  
So Hermione had taken to trying to use the 'phone as much as possible in keeping in contact with Harry over the summer. The first few calls had been a little awkward, Uncle Vernon being extremely suspicious of the young female voice asking for Harry, but after a few weeks Hermione had actually managed get Vernon Dursley's attention when she'd asked him if the drills his company made were limited to the kind used in construction and wood crafts, or if they included the sort of specialty items used by dentists. Dentists like her parents.  
  
With his head brimming with thoughts of the possibility of the company expanding into a very lucrative market (he'd been astounded when he'd done a little research into it), Uncle Vernon had not precisely accepted that a young woman would truly wish to speak with Harry Potter, but had ceased deliberately intercepting the calls.  
  
After a few weeks, Hermione and Harry had worked out a schedule for her calls so that he could try to be the one answering the 'phone when she did call. They did try not to spend a long time chatting, since that would annoy the Dursleys. But the last call had been all about the upcoming return to Hogwarts. There hadn't been any indication of anything out of the ordinary then, so why was Harry looking at her like that? And why, oh why, was her heart suddenly beating so fast?  
  
She took a step back, uncharacteristically tongue tied.   
  
Harry thought Hermione looked like she was about to bolt. And he decided that he couldn't let that happen. He just had to talk to Hermione suddenly. He stepped around her and slid the door closed. Then locked it. He turned around to Hermione's wide-eyed stare.  
  
"Sit down, please, Hermione," Harry said, "I think I really need to talk to you."  
  
Hermione sat, her body tense, as Harry suddenly began pacing back and forth in the small compartment. She started to worry when he couldn't seem to say anything. Every time he turned around, he'd glance at her and open his mouth. But nothing came out and he'd resume pacing. Worry was joined by panic when he ran a nervous hand through his hair, uncovering his scar in the process. She knew he usually was careful to keep it covered.  
  
Finally, Harry stopped, leaned against the window and stared at his reflection.  
  
"C'mon, Harry," he muttered, seemingly unaware that he was actually speaking aloud, "You can do this. Just don't mention the dream or you'll really freak her out."  
  
Hermione quickly schooled her face into as neutral an expression as she could when Harry turned and sat down on the seat across from her. Inside, she was bordering on panicky terror. She knew Harry often had presentiments of danger and she wondered if he might be developing a true precognitive ability with genuinely prescient dreams. And she wondered what he might have seen coming that he didn't want to tell her.  
  
"Um...Hermione?" Harry began hesitantly, his blush returning, "I wanted to ask you something. Do you remember those articles Rita Skeeter wrote last year?"  
  
Hermione's mouth dropped open as her mind stuttered. Whatever she though might have come out of Harry's mouth, it certainly wasn't that. It totally derailed her thought processes. Harry didn't really notice her stunned stare.  
  
"I mean," Harry continued, now staring at his hands, "The part about us being boyfriend and girlfriend. Have you ever considered it? You know, thought about us as....well....us? As a couple?"  
  
Hermione just sat there, gaping at Harry, who was nervously dry-washing his hands. His face was as red as she had ever seen it and she couldn't believe what Harry was asking her. Her brain was short circuiting.  
  
Hermione was self-honest enough to admit, in her own mind, that the thought of being Harry's girlfriend had crossed her mind a few times, even if she hadn't given the concept any serious thought. He, along with Ron Weasley, had been her best friends long before she'd started noticing boys with an eye toward more-than-friendly acts such as snogging. So neither of them had really registered on the "potential boyfriends" list at first. Ron had gotten himself permanently scratched off it by his attitude around the Yule Ball. And Hermione realized that she and Ron had too many conflicting opinions to be more than friends in the long term. Their friendship could survive more than a more intimate relationship could.  
  
Even after Skeeter's first article on the Triwizard Tournament had implied an existing relationship between Harry and her, she never really considered Harry until the Second Task of the Tournament. And the way Harry had deliberately delayed completing the task (and possibly precluding his own chances of scoring well on it) until all of the supposed 'hostages' were freed. 'Hostages' that had included her as well as the person Harry had been supposed to 'rescue'.   
  
The knocking on the compartment's door came as sort of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, the interruption meant Hermione didn't have to answer Harry's question right away. On the other hand, the person banging on the door was Ron.  
  
"Harry? Hermione?" Ron's voice called from the hallway, "Are either one of you in there?"  
  
Harry practically leapt to the door, as if extremely relieved to postpone the rest of the conversation with Hermione. Confused, Hermione tried to go over everything Harry had said in her head while Harry and Ron greeted each other with their usual enthusiasm. Then it hit her. Despite being nervous and red as a fire engine, Harry had never actually said whether he was for or against the prospect of couplehood.   
  
So, had he started this whole conversation in a fumbling attempt to ask her out on a date, or as a bumbling effort to "let her down easy"?  
  
------  
  
Hermione stood outside the door to the lavatory trying not to feel self conscious. It never occurred to her that no one would think anything of it, they would merely assume the she wished to use the facilities and was waiting for the current occupant to vacate them. She was sure she would appear as a stalker if anyone knew that Harry was inside, but she was bound and determined to speak privately with him. Since Ginny and Seamus had been no more than a minute behind Ron and everyone had piled into the compartment chatting happily away about returning to school, the past hour had been very awkward for her.   
  
She really hadn't wanted to ask Harry exactly what he'd meant with that question about her thoughts on the two of them as a couple. Well, she did, but not in front of witnesses. And, with that uncertainty hanging over her head, she hadn't been able to carry on meaningless chit chat. Hermione hadn't even been able to ask Ginny Weasley when the Hell she'd gotten that close to Seamus Finnigan.  
  
No one but Harry seemed to have noticed Hermione's unusual non-talkativeness. And he seemed unable to meet her eyes without blushing slightly. She was grateful that the others were too caught up in their own enthusiasm to notice Harry's and her odd behaviour. But she really needed to straighten this thing with Harry out as soon as possible. Because if she didn't, she'd scare herself silly dreaming up ever more terrifying things on the horizon.  
  
Hermione waited just long enough for the door to open wide enough to step through before she pounced, pushing Harry back into the lavatory, slamming the door and locking it behind her.  
  
"What happened in your dream that you're afraid to tell me?" she demanded.  
  
Harry's eyes widened and she paused briefly. That hadn't been the question she'd intended to ask, but, now that she had, she really wanted an answer. And maybe that might help lead up to asking Harry if he had ever considered the possibility of the two of them as a couple, too.  
  
[Too?] Hermione thought, [Oh dear, I think I've gone and done something rather stupid.]  
  
"W-w-what dream?" Harry asked, stunned.  
  
"Just before you started talking earlier," Hermione elaborated, "You muttered something about not mentioning a dream because it would freak me out."  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.  
  
"Did it have anything to do with You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, still connecting any dreams with Harry's known presentiments of impending danger despite the fact that Harry had immediately thereafter started on the subject of their potential couple status.  
  
"No," Harry replied, "It had nothing to do with Voldemort."  
  
Hermione flinched slightly at the V-word, but continued doggedly.  
  
"So why do think I would freak if you told me about it?"  
  
Harry tried to turn away, but she reached out and grabbed his arm preventing him. She gave him a little shake.  
  
"Because you were in it," Harry finally answered, blushing again.  
  
Hermione's mouth dropped open. Her brain nearly shut down. He couldn't possibly be implying what she was inferring. Not Harry.  
  
"Me?" she whispered, "What was it about?"  
  
Harry's blush intensified and she felt her breath catch in her throat.  
  
"I'm fifteen years old," he breathed, redder than she'd ever seen him, "I'm male. And my body is awash in teenaged hormones. I had a dream with a beautiful girl in it; what do you think it was about?"  
  
Hermione almost fainted on the spot. She could feel the blush creeping onto her own face. There was no mistaking it this time, what he was implying was crystal clear. Hermione felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest; it was beating so hard and fast. She was feeling light headed.  
  
[....'with a beautiful girl in it'? Me?] Hermione thought, [Harry thinks I'm beautiful?]  
  
A part of her suddenly wanted to cheer, but the rest of her was too stunned to do anything more than just stand there with her mouth hanging open and her eyes as wide as dinner plates. Fortunately, Harry was too fascinated by his shoes to notice. It was more than a minute before Hermione managed to break her paralysis.  
  
"Really?"   
  
The high pitched, very un-Hermione-ish, squeak grabbed Harry's attention and he raised his eyes. He took in her red face and wide eyes and wondered if he'd just destroyed one of the three best friendships he'd ever had. He should have listened to himself and not told her about the dream. He knew she'd freak. Her next words caught him off guard.  
  
"So you have thought about us, too?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"Too?!?" It was Harry's turn to squeak.  
  
Harry and Hermione just stood there, staring into each others eyes, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that they had both seen the other in a more-than-friends light. They might have still been standing there hours later when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station if someone hadn't knocked on the lavatory door.  
  
"Just a minute, please."  
  
Mandy Brocklehurst would later swear that she felt her lower jaw hit the floor when her knock on the lavatory door was answered. In stereo. One male voice. One female voice. And both voices ones which she recognized. She couldn't believe it. Her mind refused to actually wrap itself around the concept. Then the lavatory door slid open....  
  
And Harry Potter stepped out with Hermione Granger at his side. Mandy's eyes practically bugged out of her head. Both Potter and Granger were slightly flushed and breathing a little rapidly. Then Harry slid his arm around Hermione's waist and led her off down the corridor. The pair had passed out of sight through the doorway to the next car before Mandy's stunned paralysis broke and she noticed that her bladder was getting really insistent. She stepped into the now-vacant lavatory still trying to process what she had just seen.   
  
-----  
  
Harry and Hermione paused in the corridor of the next car on their way back to the compartment they were traveling in with Ron, Ginny, Seamus and whoever popped in to chat. With some semblance of privacy in the deserted corridor, they turned to face each other.  
  
"What happens now?" Harry wondered softly.  
  
"I don't know, Harry," Hermione whispered, "I just don't know."  
  
"But do you want to see if we could make a go of it, Hermione?" Harry asked, thinking, [Please say yes.]  
  
Hermione stared down at her hands for nearly a minute while she tried to debate with herself. Part of her wanted-wanted so much-to just jump in with both feet. But another part, the part that had been hurt by last year's brief fizzled romance with Victor Krum, shied away. Finally, she looked up into Harry's eyes and her breath caught at what she saw there.  
  
Hope.  
  
And love.  
  
Maybe not the kind of 'in-love-til-death-do-us-part' love that would make her just melt into a puddle. But love nonetheless. Harry did love her. And if she gave it a shot, what they had could very well develop into something that would make her melt.  
  
Hermione leaned up and captured Harry's lips with her own. The kiss was soft, tentative and very one-sided at first. Then Harry's shock wore off and he returned the kiss. With a passion. Hermione could feel herself pressing her body against his as his arms went around her to hold her close.  
  
[Wow,] Hermione thought when they finally broke for oxygen, [That was....was....WOW!]  
  
"So," Harry said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."  
  
Hermione couldn't stop a wide smile from spreading over her own face at the sparkle in his eyes. A sparkle she knew was for her and her alone. Harry held out a hand as he inclined his head in the direction of their compartment. Hermione took it without hesitation and the pair headed slowly back to where their friends were waiting.   
  
Neither of them had any idea what might happen next, but they were satisfied for the moment with the thought that they had made a start on facing the unknown future together.  
  
THE END 


End file.
